


Moments Like These

by SnappleApple11



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Babies, Canon Compliant, Charming Family Feels, Date Night, Drama, F/M, Family, Food, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Parent David, Parent Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, The Charming Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnappleApple11/pseuds/SnappleApple11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots, in no particular order, chronicling the day-to-day moments of the residents of Storybrooke. Some AU, but mostly canon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Age Related

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Captain) Charming Cobra. Old man jokes aside, Killian really has been around for a long time. It’s too bad nobody has a clue just how long. Post 4A 
> 
> Disclaimer: OUAT is not mine. I just play with it.

Henry didn’t know what made him ask that particular question in the first place, though he was tempted to say it was Killian’s complete lack of an answer. And while he wasn’t entirely sure any one person would know the answer, including the pirate in question, Henry had taken it upon himself to dig around Storybrooke to try and find out just how old Killian was. 

Emma knew Killian’s history, but she didn’t have a clue about his age. She joked that he was born sometime between the pharaohs and the dinosaurs, and probably knew a few of them personally. 

The only person alive who had met Killian centuries earlier was Grandpa Gold, but he was banished from Storybrooke, so those potential answers were long gone. 

Belle had been surprisingly helpful. She filled in a lot of the history Henry wouldn’t have even known to ask, like where his father Neal fit into the timeline and his great grandfather Peter Pan (That still took a little getting used to, knowing the fabled boy that never grew up was his great grandfather). 

And while Henry didn’t necessarily think David would know the answer, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe he knew someone who had a grandfather that sailed under Hook back in the day. So while they ate lunch at Granny’s, Henry digging into a burger and David alternately stealing French fries and holding a formula bottle for baby Neal, Henry decided it was as good a time as any to ask. 

“Hey grandpa, how old do you think Killian is?”

“Huh?” His grandfather was startled out of whatever daze baby Neal had over him, accidentally jostling the baby bottle from the infant’s slight hold. Henry was convinced infants had their own brand of magic that could hold adults in a trance. He had yet to see a hero or villain who didn’t start fawning over his baby uncle when he was brought into a room. If rumors were to be believed, even Zelena had cooed to the baby when she’d kidnapped him. 

Neal didn’t seem to like the loss of attention or his newfound lack of baby formula and gurgled unhappily until David replaced the bottle in the infant’s mouth. The man whispered softly to his son, soothing the baby but still not answering the question posed to him, so Henry continued. 

“I mean, he’s three hundred something, but three hundred and what?”

David’s face curled uncomfortably as his gaze shifted between his son and grandson. “Honestly Henry, I don’t really like to think about it, especially when I think of how old everyone in this town is supposed to be. We were all frozen in time for nearly thirty years. So I’m in my fifties and have a newborn. That’s not exactly normal for anyone.”

“I know, but-”

“And you know, technically your schoolmates are at least thirty years older than you.”

It was Henry’s turn to twist his face. He’d never thought about that. But it was true, wasn’t it? He never made the connection during the first curse, but his classmates didn’t age up through the grades with him. They stayed in the same classes while he got older, but no one noticed or said anything. 

“Does that mean they took the same exact math tests every year?” Henry thought aloud. That earned him a laugh out of David, who did his best not to shake so much for fear of jostling the baby again, but was having a hard time containing his laughter. 

“I bet they all got really good at those tests. Practice makes perfect, right?” David managed to say between chuckles.

Henry grumbled, “Damn it, that’s not even fair. I had one go at those tests, and they had years of practice.”

David shot him a look. “Don’t curse.”

“Killian curses,” Henry muttered under his breath.

“Killian can censor himself just fine even after three hundred years of verbal piracy. I think you’ll manage.”

Henry leaned forward on the table toward his grandfather, indignant. “Ok, fine, but three hundred and what years?” 

“And we’re back to that again,” David sighed.

“Neverland and all the curses kept him looking young, but for all we know he’s older than Grandpa Gold.” 

David’s eyes bulged comically. People continued to mill about the diner while Henry watched the range of thoughts play out on David’s face.

That Hook could be that old had definitely never occurred to his grandfather. It hadn’t occurred to Henry either until he started trying to put together a timeline. Somehow, it was easier to imagine Rumplestiltskin as being centuries old because he was the Dark One, and the Dark One was supposed to be an ancient being. Not to mention Gold was Henry’s grandfather, so mentally adding a few years to someone who was supposed to be older was easy. But adding those same years to someone like Hook…

“Grandpa, think about it-” 

“No thank you.” 

“-He went to Neverland back when he was in the navy, and Great Grandpa Pan was already there but we don’t know for how long-”

“Back up. Great Grandpa Pan? Grandpa Gold I get, but Pan…” David’s voice trailed off, incredulous and confused.

Henry shrugged. “Well yeah, he was a villain and had me kidnapped and all that but he’s still family. Look, I’m trying to work out a timeline here, and it starts with Pan. I gotta write this down.”

Grabbing a pencil from his trusty backpack, he pushed his half-eaten burger aside and set to work writing on the placemat. A line was drawn straight across the middle, book-ended by ‘Pan arrives in Neverland’ on the left and ‘Emma breaks curse’ on the right. Dashes were put in place along the line with notes like ’28 years of first curse’, ‘Dad born’, and ‘Dad in Neverland’ with questions marks around it. 

“Ok, so Belle said Grandpa Gold was just a kid when Pan went to Neverland, but she thinks he was somewhere between five and eight years old-” 

“You asked Belle already?” 

“-When it happened, and since Killian was already a pirate when he finally met Grandpa Gold but Gold wasn’t the Dark One yet, that means Killian already spent some time in Neverland. But for all anyone knows Lieutenant Killian got to Neverland the day after Pan arrived. That’s the earliest possible starting point. Or he could’ve gotten there a lot later. Belle said she didn’t think my dad was born until Grandpa Gold was in his thirties, so there’s a thirty or forty year stretch between when Great Grandpa Pan got to Neverland and when my dad was born that Killian could’ve gone to Neverland and turned pirate.”

“Wow, I gotta say, you sound like you did a lot of research on this Henry,” David noted in awe. 

“But Killian didn’t just start out as a lieutenant. It would take a couple years to rise through the ranks, right? How many do you think?” 

“Oh, um, I don’t know, five or six?” David guessed, taking the baby bottle from Neal and throwing a towel over his shoulder, adjusting the infant to burp him. “Depending on which navy he was in the conscription age could’ve been anywhere from fourteen to sixteen years old. You know, you’re being really logical about this. Is this how you do all your math homework too?”

Henry ignored his grandfather’s last thought in favor of furiously scribbling more notes on the placemat. “So if Killian got to Neverland the day after Pan arrived then the oldest Killian can be is seventeen years older than Grandpa Gold. At the youngest, he’s twenty-three years younger than Grandpa Gold.”

David stared at Henry uncertainly, his hand still gently clapping Neal’s back. “Are you sure that math is right?”

Henry pressed on. “If Dad was about fourteen when he left the Enchanted Forest and ended up in Neverland, Hook would’ve been somewhere between twenty-six and sixty-six. He doesn’t know how long he spent in Neverland after my dad left the island, but I get that it was a long time. And I know he worked with Grandma Cora when he finally left…”

“Grandma- You’re joking right?” Neal finally managed to burp, making David’s already comical expression even funnier as he cleaned the infant’s face.

“Respect the timeline, grandpa. If I can figure out how old she was then that’s more proof for how old Hook is.”

David snorted in disbelief. “Word of advice kid. Never try to figure out how old a woman is, even if she asks you to guess. It’s always a trap. Isn’t that right Neal? You’ll never be that rude, no you won’t. You’ll have better manners than to ask a lady something like that,” He cooed into his son’s ear. Neal chortled happily, oblivious to what his father was saying but happy to have his attention. 

Henry could only stare, mildly impressed at the speed with which David’s attention had gone from him to Neal. 

Fine then, he would do the math for Grandma Cora in his head and on the paper. So however old Grandma Snow was, plus eight was how old Regina was, plus twenty was how old Cora was, then add the twenty-eight years for the curse that brought everyone to Storybrooke in the first place. Add the either twenty-six or sixty-six years Hook was definitely alive for, not including extra time in Neverland with his dad, and it turned out to be…

“Either one hundred and ten or one hundred and fifty,” Henry muttered, not realizing he’d said anything out loud.

“One hundred what lad?” Henry whipped his head up to see Killian Jones standing right next to him by the booth. David was equally surprised and his wide eyes told Henry he’d been just as lost in thought with his infant son as Henry was in his quest for answers.

It was baby magic. Distracting baby magic. There was no other explanation. 

“When did you…?”

“You and the prince were both so lost in thought you didn’t even hear me and Emma come in. Now what’s this about one hundred and fifty?” Henry saw Emma standing at the counter, paying for a bag of take out lunch. Hook leaned over the table to glance at Henry’s scribbled placemat. He frowned when he realized what sort of timeline was written there and whom it pertained to. 

“Ah, that again? I thought we’d settled that lad. There weren’t exactly calendars in Neverland. I had no knowledge of the passing years until arriving back in the Enchanted Forest centuries later. There’s no real way of knowing for certain how old I am.”

“Yeah, but Killian, I figured out that you’re at least a hundred and ten or a hundred and fifty, not including most of the Neverland time. And there’s this window of forty years in the beginning so you’re either seventeen years older or twenty-three years younger than Grandpa Gold.”

“Seriously?” Emma chimed in skeptically, carrying her and Killian’s lunch. “Killian might be older than Gold? I don’t know kid…”

Where Emma was doubtful of Henry’s mathematical discovery, Hook looked mildly horrified at the idea, but mostly just baffled. “Lad, are you certain your arithmetic is correct?”

“Pretty sure,” He smiled at the pirate, suddenly inspired by a thought. “Hey, does this mean for your birthday we have to have a cake with at least a hundred and ten candles on it? Since that’s the youngest you could be? Or should we just guess three hundred and something like you keep telling people, because that would be a really big cake.”

Hook didn’t respond, eyes forward and unseeing, completely confused at the realization that he and Gold were actually so close in age.

His mom rolled her eyes at Henry’s questioning. “Ok kid, you’re coming with us to the station. I know for a fact you have math homework you’re avoiding, and as impressive as it would be to figure out how old Killian is, it’s not gonna get those algebra problems done.” Before turning toward the door she said a quick goodbye to David, and whispered a gentle ‘bye bye baby bro’ to Neal, who giggled at the extra attention.

Henry grumbled out a ‘fine’ before packing up his things and walking to the door with his mom and Killian, leaving his grandfather to finish the forgotten burger. 

He thought he heard Killian behind him muttering under his breath “Older than the Crocodile?” but he could have misheard. Henry would have to dig a little deeper into his research to find answers. Maybe one of the Lost Boys would know how long Hook had been in Neverland? Not that Henry was entirely eager to see them again, but it was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that I have absolutely no idea how much of his family history or anyone else’s fairy tale history Henry is aware of. Nor do I have a clue how old exactly anyone is on the show except for Emma and Henry (Whose ages are explicitly stated as 28 and 10, respectively, in the pilot). I’ve heard rumors that Snow White was 10 and Regina 18 when they met, and I’m guessing at Cora’s age being somewhere around 20 when she had Regina? Idk. 
> 
> If anyone can tell me if I missed something in terms of age do let me know!


	2. Chew Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super quick drabblet typed up half on my phone, half on my computer after work. Blame the down time between experiments and two new mothers in the lab trading ‘my-baby-tried-eating-____’ stories (Real example, “My baby girl ate a stick of butter and tried to eat the wrapper too” and “My son tried eating a pan of mud his sister gave him bc she said it was chocolate pudding”). 
> 
> Daddy!Charming and kind-of babysitter Killian. 
> 
> Read, Review, and leave a prompt for the Charmings!

With Mary Margaret working at the mayor’s office David had Neal and the apartment to himself for the afternoon. It was just past 3pm and Neal had finished his bottle, been burped, and was currently too worked up to take his regularly scheduled nap.

David blamed Hook’s untimely arrival for Neal’s sudden burst of energy and unwillingness to sleep.

The pirate had come to the apartment looking for Henry to see if he wanted to go to the docks, but was taken hostage by Neal's chubby, grabbing fingers and smiling eyes and felt compelled to stay. He’d settled on the floor in front of the couch by the baby blanket and floated plushy toys in the air to Neal’s delight and amusement. 

Part of David was insistent that Neal be put down for his nap, and another part of him was too entertained at the spectacle of Neal trying to physically climb the pirate to reach the air-born toys, much to Killian’s dismay. 

“That’s not how royalty is meant to act little prince,” Killian insisted, voice light and only half corrective, “All this grabbing and what not. Use your words and say ‘please’ lad.”

But Neal wasn’t quite up to words as complicated for his mouth as ‘please’, so he just gurgled whenever the pirate said anything and grabbed another tiny fistful of the man’s vest. Eventually, the one-sided conversation led to Neal crawling his way so far up Killian that he was practically standing and the man had to hold him steady with his good arm. David knew that Neal had given up the idea of claiming the stuffed monkey in Killian’s hand and was just enjoying the extra attention and being able to climb him. 

David wished he remembered where the camera was. This was too good of a moment to miss. 

“So my son is cavorting with a pirate,” David noted after a particularly loud gurgle from Neal, more amused than anything else. “What would the other royals of the Enchanted Forest have to say about that?”

Hook laughed at him, eyes glued happily to the little prince wriggling in his arms. "Cavorting is rather strong a word I think. Just because he isn't crying in fear at my presence doesn’t mean he’s entirely comfortable with me..."

"He’s comfortable with you. He's chewing on your hook for crying out loud." Neal was twisted in Killian’s arms enough to reach out and grab the metal appendage, bringing it close enough to his mouth to gnaw on. Or rather, Killian was letting the infant slobber all over his moniker’s namesake, careful to keep the sharp point away from Neal’s curious mouth and fingers. 

"Perhaps it helps him dream of a life of roguish freedom on the seas? What lad wouldn't dream of such adventures?" 

"Neal can't form words yet. I don't think piracy is on his mind right now. I think what’s going through his head is that there’s something shiny in front of him that he doesn’t recognize and he wants to eat it."

Killian took a thoughtful look at the baby and shrugged at the reply. "Hm, perhaps you're right mate. He probably just thinks it's shiny. A shiny new toy for the little prince."

They were both quiet for several moments while they watched his son play with the cold metal in front of him, expensive plushy toys lying forgotten on the floor. His tiny hands grasped the appendage with interest and the occasional gleeful note rose from him when Killian twisted the metal around. David was almost certain they would have stayed like that for hours, just watching Neal’s fascination with Killian’s hand replacement, if there wasn’t a nagging voice in the back of David’s mind reminding him it was time for Neal’s nap. 

"I should get him to bed. Pass him over?" 

Killian pulled his hook away from Neal's grabbing hands to give him back to David, but at the hook's removal Neal started to whine and complain, his face scrunching in frustration and hands reaching out desperately for the metal. David immediately recognized the look as one of Neal’s precursor looks to a crying fit. Killian seemed to notice the baby’s distress too, bringing the hook immediately back into Neal’s waiting hands and mouth. 

Shared surprise passed between the two men and they exchanged confused looks over Neal’s head. 

“Um, apologies, mate? I didn’t think he’d be quite so fond of my hook. Aren’t most children happier with those plush animal toys than metal?”

“That’s what I thought, but now I don’t know what to think.”

Another moment passed and Killian tried once again to pass Neal back to his father, but with the same resulting grumpy Neal. 

“Perhaps he’s arrived in his rebellious teenage years early?” Killian suggested helplessly. David had another idea along a similar vein. 

"There's no rum on your hook for him, is there? I remember some of the new mother’s doing that back in the Enchanted Forest, giving babies rum. I thought that was just for teething though?"

"No rum on my hook that I'm aware of. Why not simply leave him here for the time being and if he falls asleep then job well done. It’s no real matter where he sleeps as long as he does sleep, aye?”

“I guess. I’d rather he was in his crib though…”

“Mate, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my advanced years, it is that the ability to sleep in any given place or position is a highly underrated and essential life skill. One never knows when a trip into the woods will lead to an unplanned camping expedition. Think of it as giving the little prince an early lesson.” Hook said it with such sincerity that David wondered just what kind of crazy contorted positions Killian had gotten himself into over the years. Seconds later David reminded himself that many of the contorted positions and unusual sleeping places for Killian probably had something to do with living on a cramped pirate ship and in Neverland’s jungle for several hundred years. A shiver went through David at the memory of Neverland’s inhospitable jungle, and he was glad once again to be very, very far away from the place. 

“Maybe if I get him his blanket he’ll want to go to sleep,” David thought aloud as he stood up, not waiting for Hook to respond. Grabbing the knit blanket from the crib, blue ‘Neal’ sewn into the fabric, he draped gently it over the pair and watched his son wriggle at the sudden weight and coverage. 

It took longer than David would have liked, but eventually the blanket took effect and Neal finally started to doze off in the pirate’s arms. His tiny hands still held the hook, stubbornly refusing to let go even in sleep, but his eyelids dropped and his breathing evened out, signaling his losing battle with wakefulness. 

David loved watching his son sleep. He loved the way Neal’s face was so calm and serene, and the way his little fists would curl around whatever was near him, as if he were anchoring himself to something solid for fear of floating away. The sight always brought a smile to David’s face, and even the newness of his son lying peacefully in the pirate’s arms left the corners of his mouth turned upward and his heart fluttering warmly. 

“You comfy there Killian?” David asked, smile still printed on his face.

Hook shifted away from the couch, moving to stand. “Not entirely, actually. The little prince is a stubborn one but so long as he’s not too light a sleeper I’m sure I can put him in his crib without too much trouble.”

“About that. You realize now that he’s asleep you’re not allowed to move, right?”

“Come again?” Killian’s eyes widened comically and he nearly pulled his hook away from Neal’s grip, causing the baby to stir unhappily for a moment before settling again.

“He’s actually a pretty light sleeper and I don’t want him waking up yet. Besides, it’s your fault he wouldn’t go to sleep in the first place.”

“Hold on there, mate. You can’t just leave me like this,” Hook insisted worriedly. “What if I’m needed elsewhere? What then?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll wake up in half an hour like he always does.” David stood, intent on making the most of this golden opportunity of time. As much as he loved watching his son sleep he also had things he needed to do, like put away the laundry. 

He walked to the washer and dryer and heard Killian shuffle by the couch, settling more fully in front of the furniture in a fruitless attempt at comfort. “Bloody hell, this is the beanstalk all over again, only this time it’s a babe and not handcuffs keeping me restrained.” 

He couldn’t see Killian’s face, but he knew the man would be smiling softly at Neal anyway, despite the hard floor underneath him and awkward sitting position. David suspected that Killian wasn’t too used to having people trust him so completely, and he would be quietly reveling in the moment and the implicit trust Neal was placing in him. The fact that Neal was apparently so fascinated by his hook had to be an even bigger plus for the pirate too. 

It was a softer side of Killian that David had never expected to see from the pirate, and even though Hook’s arrival had been unexpected, David knew it was worth his while being captured by Neal’s attention just to have that softness finally see the light of day. 

Maybe he could have Killian babysit sometime? It would be good for him to have that smile on more often.


	3. Speedy Gonzalez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super shortie (~1000 words). I’m not sure why I’m doing so many baby Neal-centric drablets, but here’s another one for you. Inspired by true events, because apparently I too had limited motor control and endless energy even as a baby. 
> 
> Leave a prompt for the Charmings, read and review!
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

“Um, Mary Margaret? Why is my baby brother covered in bruises?” Emma’s worried question left Mary Margaret to sigh tiredly. 

“I promise you, it’s not what you think Emma. Your brother is just a speedy Gonzalez without working brakes,” She said, watching her daughter examine the infant crawling around gleefully on the living room carpet. 

That seemed to ease Emma’s mind a little, and the corner of her mouth quirked upward. “So he hasn’t joined an underground baby fight club then?”

It was enough to bring a small smile to Mary Margaret’s tired face. “No, no he hasn’t.” She loved her son to death, really she did, and he made her happy beyond anything, but she was tired of being so damn tired all the time. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes getting bigger. 

“I’m serious Emma, he’s an absolute speed demon. I swear, it was easier being on the run as a bandit than keeping up with him when he finds an open stretch of space.”

“Well, what were his first steps like? Maybe there was some kind of clue or foreshadowing or something there? I don’t know.” 

“I don’t think a few jumbled and uncoordinated steps are a good indicator of anything. They were first steps, a first effort. They’re allowed to be rushed or slow or anything else he needs them to be.” Stern as she was trying to be Mary Margaret remembered those first steps with such a fond clarity she would swear they had happened only moments before. Neal’s first steps were a fearless and beautiful mess of flailing limbs and rushed movement into David’s waiting arms, and she could easily recall the matching looks of joy etched on the faces of father and son. 

“I’ll admit Neal did seem to entirely skip the whole walking stage and go straight to running…” Mary Margaret allowed, “Running until something stationary stops him, that is.”

Emma turned to watch her brother crawl forward toward the couch, having lost interest in the toys littering the floor. “Maybe it’s a practice thing. He just has to move around more on his own to get used to controlling his legs,” She bit her lip in thought. “Did Regina have anything to add?” 

Whenever Mary Margaret had a question about infancy or anything related to Neal’s baby-hood, she had taken to calling upon her stepmother for advice. The woman had successfully and single-handedly raised Henry; surely she had to know all the ins and outs of caring for an infant.

“She gave me that eye look, you know the one I mean, the one where she doesn’t really feel like telling you anything but she answers anyway? Well, Regina said she couldn’t say anything about infants in general, but that Henry spoke his first ‘mama’ well before he took his first steps. And she did say he was a fairly skittish walker at first.”

Mary Margaret caught sight of a smile creeping onto her daughter’s face. Emma’s eyes were still glued on Neal, who was now grasping the sofa cushions in his tiny hands, trying to pull himself upright and babbling in effort. Her hands were halfway reached out to him, clearly wanting to help but also wanting to watch him fulfill this small but monumental task himself. 

“So all those bruises are because he falls down and he can’t stop running before hitting a piece of furniture? You guys have padded absolutely everything in this apartment.” Emma noted.

“Pretty much, and he can’t make corners yet either. David and I do our best to catch him before he gets too far away and we almost always catch him in time, but even with the padding and baby-proofing in our apartment there are so many places outside where he can hurt himself. Honestly I just want to pad the whole world or at least make him wear one of those padded helmets and suits.”

While they were talking Neal managed to pull himself upright against the couch, legs wobbling uncertainly and fists still clenched adorably in the fabric. He was starting to reach up further on the sofa to pull himself all the way on to the cushions to join his family when something caught his eye. 

The hanging mobile in the window glinted in the sunlight, bouncing afternoon rays across the floor of the apartment in a prism of color that easily captured the infant’s attention. Neal must have decided that the lights dancing across the floor were more interesting than his family because he immediately dropped his grip from the sofa and began racing toward the vanishing flickers, a wide smile plastered across his chubby cheeks. 

The next moment happened in slow motion for Mary Margaret. One moment she was talking to Emma about Neal’s tendency toward going anywhere in an uncontrolled hurry, and the next she noticed blurred movement out of the corner of her eye. On instinct she twisted to stand from the couch, reaching down blindly and scooping up the blur that was her son a moment before his face made contact with the floor of the apartment after he tripped over his feet. 

In one smooth motion she swung him into her arms and cooed gently to him, calming the infant who didn’t even seem to realize the fate that he had been spared from. Instead, Neal simply gurgled at his mother, his previous infatuation with the flickering lights on the floor forgotten in the presence of the sudden attention he was receiving. 

Mary Margaret finally noticed her daughter now seated on the edge of the couch looking at her with complete awe. 

“Um, Emma?”

“Mary Margaret, for someone who looks so exhausted I don’t think you’re reflexes have ever been faster.”


	4. Different Tastes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the kids of Storybrooke have learned to let a lot of things slide. Learning there was a dragon housed underneath the library for almost thirty years? Sure thing. A jilted villain seeking vengeance? That’s just an ordinary Thursday. Seeing your friend’s lunch included chocolate covered olives? Well… Maybe that one was a little out there. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except the madness.

“Um, Grace, did your dad make your lunch by any chance?” Henry asked his classmate, genuinely curious but already aware of the answer. 

“Actually I think Papa took my lunch to work by mistake this morning. This is probably his.” She said it so nonchalantly that Henry didn’t need to have seen her lunch every day for the past several weeks to know it was the sort of thing that happened all the time. 

Inside Grace’s lunch bag and now spread across the table were a bottle of iced tea (She insisted that’s what it was, even if the glowing magenta color and odd chunks had Henry a little wary), an innocent banana, several packets of ketchup, what turned out to be chocolate covered olives, and an onion bagel smeared with garlic and nutella. 

Henry’s PB & J sandwich and assorted veggies and ranch had never looked so sad in comparison.

“It’s definitely not the weirdest thing he’s done,” Grace reminded him, taking a tentative sip of the iced tea and smiling in surprise, going back for a bigger gulp. “And a lot of times his combos turn out really good. Remember those bacon and banana muffins he and I made for the bake sale? They were actually really good! I still don’t get why people didn’t buy them?”

“Probably because my grandma had to put an asterix next to their sign saying they weren’t vegetarian? I don’t think a lot of people expect meat in their muffins. No matter how good they are.”

Grace shrugged, uncaring.

“You know Grace, for some reason, I kinda pictured tailors as being really boring with their lunches. Like, tuna fish sandwich boring. I don’t know why, I just did.”

Reunited with his daughter but unable to return to the Enchanted Forest, Jefferson had set up shop as a tailor on main street. He worked on any and all kinds of clothes, but he held a special revulsion for hats not unlike Mary Margaret’s continued avoidance of apples. 

“I don’t think my papa could be boring if he tried, and I don’t want him to anyway,” Grace replied, popping one of the olives in her mouth and offering one to Henry. 

He took the offering and tentatively bit into the chocolate covered olive, the salty-sweet combination surprisingly dancing over his taste buds. He ate the rest of the olive in one go. “I’m just wondering what the ketchup is for,” Henry added. 

Grace picked up a ketchup packet and looked curiously at the banana, tilting her head in consideration. Henry caught the look and couldn’t hide his minor disgust.

“You think that’s seriously what he was thinking?”

“Maybe. Might as well try it anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?” Grace suggested. 

“Probably something involving a toilet.”

Grace ignored his quip and peeled the banana, tearing open the ketchup packet and pouring the condiment over the end of the fruit. “You know, papa doesn’t like to talk about Wonderland much, but he sometimes slips and mentions stuff. This one time he talked about having to eat these cakes that made you grow and shrink and this tea that made you hallucinate things. I guess after eating like that for so long you’d be up to eat just about anything, and if you’re like me, you’ll try anything right along with them.”

Henry smiled at his friend in admiration. “Grace, your dad’s awesome, but he’s still a little nuts.” 

Grace snorted at that, well used to such comments. “I think the word you’re looking for is mad. Besides, the only thing madder than my Papa in this town is your family tree. Is there anyone you’re not related to somehow?” She threw back. 

“Um, I’ll get back to you on that. There’s still a few blank spaces,” Henry replied, not fighting the smile that broke out on his face. 

That was something Henry appreciated about Grace and all the kids in his class, they could laugh at just how crazy their lives and the people in them were. After the first curse broke they had taken the time to learn what the rest of the world thought of their realm through movies and books, and apart from being mildly horrified at some of the depictions, they had decided to laugh most of it off. The general consensus seemed to be that the people of Storybrooke knew the truth, no matter how crazy it got, so what did it matter what anyone else thought? 

Admittedly, watching the films had started a few questionable trends within the school. Some of the kids had started miming a gnashing crocodile and muttering ‘tick tock tick tock’ whenever Killian walked by, to his confusion until Henry had explained, and several students had taken to humming the Disney musical numbers whenever the appropriate Storybrooke citizen approached. There was a general unhappiness that Mulan had not been brought to their realm since now they had no reason to regale her with “I’ll make a man out of you,” but it didn’t stop them from belting out a verse or two in gym class. 

“You have to admit, it’s pretty funny,” Grace added, banana finished and ready to move on to the bagel of questionable dietary aggressiveness. “Your family tree is so twisty and interwoven. It’s like one of those ornate tapestries they hang in the castles, really big and beautiful but really complicated, you know?”

“Tapestries? Not really,” Henry deadpanned. 

Grace was suddenly sheepish. “Oh, right. For someone whose at the center of all this you haven’t actually been there. Sorry about that. I kinda forgot.”

“Not your fault,” Henry replied. He reached into his lunch bag, pulling out a handful of Oreos and small tub of peanut butter, the one treat he’d snuck into his lunch that morning, offering one of the cookies to Grace.

“I still can’t believe how you eat Oreos. It seems, I dunno, sacrilegious or something,” She said, splitting open the Oreo into two clean halves and licking the cream off. 

“Putting peanut butter on an Oreo is not sacrilegious, Grace. It’s delicious.”

“I’m not against the peanut butter, but you put it on the whole thing though, cream and all. You gotta take the cream out first, then put the peanut butter onto the cookies. Like this.” She demonstrated with the now cleaned cookies, slathering peanut butter between the two halves in a new cookie sandwich. A great smile spread on her face as she took a satisfied bite of her creation.

Henry twisted his lip. “It’s not weird to eat it all together. It’s not like I put olive oil and salt on my ice cream.”

“That’s a delicacy and you know it Henry Mills!” Grace looked jokingly offended and Henry could only throw his hands up in defense, not knowing how to respond. 

A comfortable silence fell over them as they finished off their respective lunches and traded bits of food to each other, an Oreo here, a chocolate covered olive there. She’d even offered him a bite of her onion bagel with nutella and garlic. As curious as Henry was about the bagel concoction, he valued a working set of taste buds more, and steadfastly avoided it when it was offered. 

Grace broke the silence just before the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. “So going back to the ice cream thing, a bunch of us are going to the ice cream shop after school. It’s the grand reopening since that Snow Queen woman, um, left. Wanna come?”

“Yeah sure. So long as nothing gets cursed and no new villains show up between now and after school I’ll be there.” 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that Jefferson would be a really eclectic, kooky kind of dad. Cool and fun, but kinda kooky, if that makes sense (Wonderland doesn’t seem like the best place to keep one’s sanity when in the Hatter’s position). And that Grace would have learned to basically roll with the punches when they were reunited. Also, does anyone happen to know where Jefferson and Grace are now? Are they supposed to be in Storybrooke still just floating around doing their own thing? Or are they back in the Enchanted Forest (As in they never came back with the second curse)? Or did something happen with them and Jefferson’s hat?


	5. Big Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written assuming Regina gets the time to tell Henry anything about what’s happened between her, Zelena, and the Author. Honestly, I don’t think she’ll get a chance to say anything before the Author and Rumple finish up their scheme, which is pretty unfortunate, but here’s hoping it all works out in the end. Spoilers for 4:21 “Mother”
> 
> Also, currently working on a Snowing-based one-shot for this collection, so expect that to come out in the next few days.

Muffled voices greeted Henry as he approached his grandparent’s apartment door and he hesitated announcing his arrival. The voices didn’t sound angry or loud, a good sign so far, but Henry had long since learned that people didn’t need to raise their voices to be angry at each other. He had also learned to avoid entering a room or conversation mid-argument if at all possible. 

So instead of entering right away, he leaned in close and pressed an ear to the wood separating him from the inhabitants inside, trying to decipher what was being said.

“Regina, I don’t understand. You said this was a family thing, but ‘not’ a family thing?” That was definitely Mary Margaret, apparently talking to his mom. 

“Yes, hardly straight forward, I know. I’m honestly not sure how to talk about any of this.” That sounded like Regina all right, but why did she sound so nervous?

“And you won’t tell us yet because…?” There was grandpa David.

“I promise I’ll tell you later. And if I somehow don’t then word will undoubtedly get around town faster than I would ever want, but I just want to talk to Henry about it first.” 

What did his mom want to talk to him about? A nervous twinge shot up his spine and Henry was suddenly dreading going into the loft. If Regina was worried about something spreading like wildfire then it was probably bad news. Nothing spread faster than bad news. Was she being forced to leave town forever or hurt someone? Was she being blackmailed into something that involved him?

Panic and a need for answers overriding any sense of further secrecy, Henry slammed open the door and barged into the apartment, eyes wide, as he took in the surprisingly calm scene in front of him. 

On the couch was his grandfather, watching Neal play with some toys on the carpet, and at the kitchen counter stood his grandmother and mom, all startled at his sudden presence and looking a little like a group of deer caught in the headlights. 

“Henry, um…” Regina looked nervous and cautious, but not angry or upset, so there was at least that. 

“We’ll give you two some space!” Mary Margaret chimed in, running over to the coat rack and grabbing jackets for her and David. David smoothly lifted Neal from the floor, and pulled a coat and hat over his son’s head, whispering in the boy’s ear about ‘going on an adventure to the library’. 

In a flurry they had left, and it was just Henry and his mom in the apartment. An awkward silence filled the space, made worse by Regina fidgeting her hands anxiously on the counter. Henry couldn’t remember a time his mother had ever looked so nervous. She was always so composed, so sure of herself. She had answers for everything and she rarely got flustered at all. But the awkward, uneasy woman in front of him was making Henry just a bit anxious. 

“Why don’t we sit down?” She finally suggested, motioning to the couch. Henry followed her lead and joined her on the plush cushions, watching her curiously pick up one of Neal’s toys and roll it in her hands, her dark eyes glued to the shiny plastic with a soft look Henry couldn’t quite name. 

“So…” Henry started dumbly, not sure what to say.

“Maybe I should have let Robin come with me for this after all,” Regina muttered, putting off whatever it was she wanted to tell Henry. 

“Come with you for what?” He asked, wondering what the hell had gotten into his mom that had turned her into such a restless pile of nerves. 

He saw her breathe deeply through her nose, trying to regain her normal calm exterior. “You know that Zelena came back with us from New York, right?”

“Yeah, but no one’s saying why. Do they know and they just don’t wanna talk about it or is everyone actually clueless?”

The corner of his mom’s mouth tipped upward briefly but she kept her head ducked. “I think it’s more likely that word hasn’t quite gotten around yet, but it will, unfortunately.”

“Emma said Zelena killed Marion back in the Enchanted Forest. That Marion never actually came to Storybrooke at all,” Henry supplied, just wanting Regina to tell him whatever it was that needed saying so they could move forward. 

“That’s um, yes, that’s right.”

Still confused at his mom’s further lack of explanation, he pressed. “Did you want me to help Roland? I mean, he’ll have lost his mom twice and he shouldn’t have to-”

“No! No, that’s, uh, that’s a good thought Henry. I actually offered Robin a memory potion for him. It’ll leave him a blank spot of memory from the past few weeks but it’ll be as if Marion never came back into his life, so he won’t have lost her again.” She shifted in her seat, very uncomfortable now. “Although, Roland’s young enough that you might have to help him understand something else…”

“What?”

“You’re going to be a big brother, Henry. You and Roland are going to be big brothers.” Regina finally met his gaze, nervous and obviously fearful of his reaction. 

Henry didn’t know what to think. He didn’t feel happy or angry. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all. His head felt empty and hollow and he felt if someone knocked on his head right then there would be nothing but an echo inside. He could only sit there staring at his mom, uncertain if he had heard her right but knowing he had. 

Finally, he let his gaze drift down to his mom’s stomach. “Mom… Are you…?” 

Regina shook her head and dropped her eyes again. “Zelena’s pregnant.”

Now Henry was just confused. “But Zelena’s your sister. Err, half-sister. Wouldn’t that make this kid my cousin then?”

When Regina shifted this time it was almost a full-body motion that screamed discomfort and distress. There was something she wasn’t saying. Some key detail she was leaving out. Henry’s mind raced through every crazy scenario he could think of that would lead to his mom raising her hated half-sister’s child as her own but nothing stuck. Unless…

“Mom, you said Roland was gonna be a big brother too. Is Robin involved somehow?” Regina tensed so marginally that it was only the years of living with her that allowed Henry to notice it. “Is Robin… Is it his kid? But wait, wouldn’t Zelena and he have had to… Oh.” Understanding dawned on him like a sucker punch to the gut. 

Regina’s grip on the toy tightened as she shifted anxiously, still avoiding looking at Henry. 

“Holy shit. That’s messed up.” He said. It must have been enough of a shock for Regina too since she didn’t reprimand Henry for language like normal. “I know Zelena’s head is a little… But this is just… Wow.”

Henry realized that in a really messed up way, it was Zelena’s ultimate revenge on Regina. Zelena, masquerading as Robin’s wife, would have had everything Regina wanted with her soul mate. She would have had Robin, a fresh start somewhere new, even a child of her own flesh and blood. And now Regina was going to raise the kid anyway, knowing who its mother was. 

Henry knew his mom. Knew how desperate she had been to find the Author and rewrite her happy ending. Something like this should have crushed her, but instead here she was telling Henry he was getting a new sibling. 

“You could’ve just kicked Zelena out of Storybrooke with the kid, so why raise it yourself? Is it because it’s Robin’s kid too?” Henry asked. 

Regina shook her head. “No, that’s not it, Henry. It’s because…” She took another deep breath and locked eyes with him. There was a steely determination there now, but also an acceptance and peacefulness that hadn’t been there earlier. “I won’t sweep this under the rug. It won’t be easy, but it’s the right thing to do and I’m not going to stand in the way of my own happy ending anymore,” She said, voice stronger than it had been since Henry had come back to the apartment. 

The edges of Henry’s mouth tipped upward in a smile, happy with her answer. “I’m really proud of you mom.”

Regina answered her son’s smile with a smile of her own, relief pouring off of her. Henry moved forward to wrap his arms around her in a hug. It took Regina a moment to reciprocate, but when she did she locked her arms tightly around her son, grateful for his support. They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and happy to have the other’s presence. 

“Hey mom, is it weird that I kinda want a little sister?” Henry asked after a time, his head still nestled on Regina’s shoulder. 

He felt Regina shake with laughter. “Not at all, Henry. Not at all.”

Henry knew there was still a lot to talk about. He didn’t know exactly what would happen to Zelena after the kid was born, and he didn’t know what this meant for his mom and Robin’s relationship moving forward. Did this mean the Locksley’s were going to move in with them? Were Robin and Regina gonna get married someday and raise the newborn together? 

No matter what happened, at that moment Henry was just proud of his mom for how far she had come. The old Regina would never have hesitated to kick Zelena out of town, or maybe even hurt the unborn baby somehow. But now she was keeping Zelena alive and even raising the kid as her own. 

People could come a long way in a few years.


	6. Mother's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Snowing one-shot I mentioned before is coming along, but I wanted to get this out in time for Mother’s Day
> 
> This is for the reviewer who wanted more Daddy!David. Just in time for mother’s day, David wraps a gift for Mary Margaret, and starts to tell his son about Ruth, the grandmother he will never have the chance to know.

“Think you’re mom’ll like this one?” David held up a bright blue ribbon for his son’s inspection. “Or this one?” He held a white ribbon in his other hand, watching his son glance between the two choices, eyes wide and curious. 

Neal wobbled forward from his place on the living room carpet, crawling toward his father’s outstretched hands and reaching for the bright blue ribbon. He tugged on the ribbon happily, pulling it toward him with eagerness. 

“You sure you’re not just picking that one ‘cause it’s brighter?” David asked his son with a skeptical eyebrow.

Still clutching the blue ribbon, Neal’s other hand came to grasp the white ribbon too, and he chortled excitedly, tugging on both ribbons. 

David could only smile at his son’s excitement. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Both are better.” He gently pulled the ribbons from his son’s tiny clutches and twirled them together, wrapping them around the small box in his hands. 

For the past few months David had wanted to get Mary Margaret a necklace as a mothers day gift, but living in Storybrooke and being unable to come and go from the town as he pleased left him very few options other than what was available at the local jewelers. He had an idea of what he was looking for in the necklace, and he knew it wasn’t there. Luckily, David knew the dwarf who owned the jewelry store and was able to convince the other dwarves to help pull together the raw materials he needed for a one of a kind, custom necklace. It would be something special from all of them for a woman they all cared for. 

While digging in the mines, Leroy managed to find a small gem that David knew would be perfect. Several months of collaboration with the dwarves later, David was presented with a silvery necklace centered by a brilliant green gem just like the one on Mary Margaret’s wedding ring. 

He smiled fondly at the necklace now wrapped in it’s ribbon-adorned box, even as a dull ache flit briefly across his heart, but it was an ache he had long since learned to live with. 

“Have I told you about your Grandma Ruth yet?” David said, knowing Neal would likely not answer. “You know, your mom’s wedding ring was originally hers. Grandma Ruth wanted me to give the ring to the woman I’d fall in love with. She knew how much marrying for love meant to me.”

It felt strange to David to call his mother ‘Grandma Ruth’, but he had no doubt the nickname would have grown on her, and the idea brought a smile to his face. He reached down and lifted the squirming infant into one arm, nestling the baby against his shoulder and holding the wrapped box in his other hand as he stood up and walked around the loft. 

“It’s not in Henry’s book, but she got to see your mom and I get married at Lake Nostos. Sir Lancelot and her were the only witnesses and it was perfect, just us, together. No giant royal procession, or seating table politics, or being threatened with vengeful curses. We exchanged water, and I got to give the woman I love the ring my mother wanted me to give.” David bounced Neal gently with every step, keeping a smile on his son’s face while he spoke, eyes searching high and low for somewhere to hide the gift. 

“Now your Grandma Ruth would have absolutely loved you and your sister. She would have baked you both pies and knit you blankets with wool from the sheep on her farm, but she was a tough lady too. She had to be,” He chuckled, memories from his childhood rushing back in a welcome flood of joy and nostalgia. “Running a sheep farm is no picnic. Sheep kick just as hard as any donkey, remember that,” David half-seriously warned his son with a wagging finger. If Neal was now at all fearful of a sheep’s wrath though, he didn’t show it. Instead, he reached out to grab his father’s finger and shook it in what amounted to a mock handshake. 

The motion brought another smile to David’s face. “Glad to know we’re raising a well-mannered prince,” He laughed, returning his son’s impromptu finger-hand shake. 

Sometimes David wondered if it was ever possible that he would stop smiling so much around his son. He didn’t honestly think so, and he didn’t want to stop either. Was this how his mother felt when he and James had been born? Had she been unable to stop her lips from curling upwards at every little thing they did? Or had the weight of the world already taken its toll and pressed creases into her forehead and the corners of her eyes?

Finger still held in his son’s clutches, David’s vocal reminiscing took a more somber tone. “Grandma Ruth practically raised me, you know. My dad did too at first, but I guess I don’t really like thinking about him all that much.” David remembered his father all too well; it wasn’t as if he could ever really forget the man. He remembered his mother taking care of the man every time he came stumbling home drunk and delirious from the tavern. He also remembered his mother telling him to be patient with his father because he would surely change his ways soon, but then his mother would turn around and tell his father off for drinking and wasting their precious little money on something as useless and harmful as booze. 

He shook his head and smoothed a hand along his son’s back, ridding himself of the darkening thoughts. “But your Grandma Ruth was always taking care of the family and our livelihood, no matter what it took; Taking King George’s deal for James, raising me on her own, keeping the farm when Bo Peep came. She was one of the strongest women I’ll ever know, and even after everything life threw at her she always kept an eye on tomorrow and never lost sight of what was important to her. Her family.”

David opened the hall coat closet, his gaze searching the space for any hidden and usable alcoves. “Think we can hide your mom’s present in here until Mother’s Day?” Neal squirmed in David’s hold and reached with both hands for the sleeves of a blue coat and a white coat hanging innocently in the closet.

“Oh, I see now. You liked both the ribbons earlier ‘cause they reminded you of mom’s coats, huh? Is that what you were thinking?” His only reply was a giggle and more reaching. An idea popped into David’s mind and he reached for his wife’s blue coat. “Why don’t we hide mom’s present in her coat pocket, huh? We’ll tell her to wear the blue coat to dinner and let her find it and be surprised? How does that sound?” Neal squealed excitedly. “Yeah, I think she’ll like that too.”

Present hidden in the coat pocket, David shut the closet door and stepped back, satisfied with his plan for Mother’s Day. He looked down at his son, who had stopped reaching for the now shut closet and instead moved his wayward gaze toward the flickering sunlight across the empty loft. “I know you won’t get to meet Grandma Ruth but I hope you’re like her, and that you never lose sight of how important family is.” David planted a kiss on Neal’s forehead, walking them back through the apartment to where Neal’s toys still lay strewn across the carpet. He let his son down to play and waited for his wife to come back from the mayor’s office, eager to see her reaction to the surprise waiting for her in her other coat pocket.


	7. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering the rather limited number of fine dining establishments that seem to be available in Storybrooke I feel like this would be inevitable. The Nolan’s date night doesn’t turn out quite as they had expected.
> 
> Takes place post 4b in an alternate ending universe where no one goes missing.

“Should we really be doing this here?” 

“David, it’s fine. Belle’s watching Neal, and we haven’t had a date night in ages,” Mary Margaret assured her husband, taking her seat at the small table.

David fidgeted in his seat, glancing nervously around the upscale restaurant. “That’s not it. It’s just that we’re not exactly alone here.”

“Emma recommended this restaurant and you’re the one who wanted to come. If you wanted a romantic private dinner we could have had Belle take Neal for the whole night instead of a few hours and cooked something at home.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean that we’re not the only couple here on a date and, I don’t know exactly, it just feels weird somehow.” David tilted his head to the side, implying not so subtly that she look around. 

Perplexed, Mary Margaret twisted her head to where David was gesturing and her eyes narrowed in further confusion. Only three tables away from them sat Regina and Robin, hands linked behind a basket of bread and eyes locked together intently as if the one of them would vanish should they turn away. 

“They haven’t seen each other in weeks, why wouldn’t they want some time together?” Mary Margaret asked. 

Another head shake. “Keep looking.”

Mary Margaret obliged him, glancing her eyes over the other patrons of the restaurant and taking note of the oddly high number of couples present that they personally knew. 

At one table sat Ashley and Sean on what looked like a double date with Aurora and Philip. Even from the other end of the room Mary Margaret could hear them all comparing notes about the happenings of their young children. At another table, Victor and Ruby were making heated faces at each other, looking about ready to either yell or kiss each other senseless. Mary Margaret even recognized several of the maids and butlers from the kingdom, all on dates of their own. And in the far corner, oddly secluded from the other restaurant goers, were Emma and Hook, sitting far closer together than Mary Margaret was comfortable with. She admitted to herself that may have been the mother in her talking, but she didn’t see any of the other couples with their arms wrapped quite so tightly around each other.

“Did I miss something? Is there a discount for couples tonight? It’s not exactly Valentine’s Day,” Mary Margaret mused aloud, her eyes catching sight of Marco pouring a glass of wine for Granny Lucas at a different table. 

“No idea.” David’s eyes traveled around the room, darting from couple to couple and stopping briefly on Leroy and Astrid’s table. “How many nice restaurants like this are there in Storybrooke anyway?”

“No idea,” Mary Margaret said, mirroring his answer. “I think Emma said the chef here used to cook for Sean’s family in the Enchanted Forest, and I know I’ve seen some of our old castle chefs here too.”

David’s mouth twisted at that. “So all the chefs got cursed to work in the same restaurant in this realm? Isn’t that taking the whole ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ thing a little far?”

Mary Margaret couldn’t help the upward curve of her lips at that. “It’s a little like being back in the Enchanted Forest during one of the grand banquet dinners, with everyone you know at one meal together, and no matter how much you wanted to leave because of something awkward happening you just couldn’t. You remember those? Joanna used to tell me that all of the cooks would argue over the menu and food choices so they could try and impress each other.” In the background she could hear Aurora’s peals of laughter echoing around the room and tried to ignore it. 

David’s eyes glazed over in memory and a grin spread across his features. “They all kind of blur together after a while but I don’t think I’ll ever actually forget them. At least we have our own table this time. We used to have to get everyone to sit at that long table,” He remembered, eyes turning in reaction to the increasing volume of Ruby and Victor’s conversation about the best way to cook a steak. 

“I remember that! And there was always something wrong with the seating chart because someone was annoyed at someone else and they couldn’t stand having that person in breathing space of their food!” She answered excitedly, trying to drown out the sound of Robin describing what he knew of New York City politics to Regina. 

They laughed together loudly as they remembered the extravagant affairs and planning that went into the elaborate meals of their old life, as well as some of the more ridiculous stories. Mary Margaret told David about some of the more embarrassing dinners she had to attend as a child, including one where a foreign dignitary had refused to drink anything but rainwater collected during a full moon, and another where she had snuck several bites of blueberry pie from the kitchens before dinner, but failed to clean up the colorful evidence of her crime from her face and dress. 

David was just in the middle of describing his first grand dinner in King George’s palace when their waiter practically hopped to their table, stopping short in front of them with his spine stick straight. The man had a mischievous smile glued to his face that was likely permanent and gave Mary Margaret the distinct impression of a mouse happily flitting between wheels of cheese. The man took a deep breath and all at once let out a stream of words that flowed together almost too closely to be individually deciphered. 

“Welcome, my name is Jaq, I will be serving you this evening. Our specials include roasted Cornish hen with grapes, which is a lovely little dish for anyone with a big appetite, and butternut squash and sage pasta, just one of several vegetarian options we have this evening. The soup of the day is a kale soup, available in a cup or bowl. We also have a wonderful tiramisu for dessert. Would you like some water to start? I’ll get you some water to start, and some bread for the table, and I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” 

Jaq was gone as quick as he had arrived. He managed to make it through his entire, likely well-rehearsed, speech without taking a single breath and Mary Margaret was impressed, if a little daunted. She barely even noticed the menus he had placed in front of them for their perusal. 

Judging by David’s expression, he was as equally daunted by the sudden living storm of energy that had just bounced away. “That was…” 

“I think he was one of the mice that lived with Cinderella before she met Thomas,” Mary Margaret supplied, a resounding ‘no way!’ reaching her from Ashley’s table across the room as she spoke.

“Ah, got it,” He replied, nodding in understanding. 

“I have to say, dinner dates in Storybrooke are nicer than in the Enchanted Forest. There aren’t any political crises to deal with or seating charts. We have more alone time here,” Mary Margaret said.

“Yeah, ‘alone’ isn’t quite the word I would use right now,” David muttered, sneaking a long glance at the various other couples around the restaurant, all filling the atmosphere with their own conversations. 

Mary Margaret sent a sympathetic smile his way, and took another look at the other tables. Her eyes fell on her daughter and Hook, who suddenly seemed more wrapped up in each other than when she had first noticed them. Hook’s arm was wrapped tightly around her and he was whispering something in her ear, while Emma’s head was turned deeply into Hook’s neck. Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes as she noticed that Emma was breathing just a little too harshly, and was it just the mood lighting or was there actually a flush to her daughter’s skin? 

Mary Margaret’s eyes snapped open in understanding and she peeled her eyes away from the very private moment, mildly horrified at having caught sight of it in the first place. After that display she knew it would be a while before she looked at her daughter and the pirate without blushing. Mary Margaret wondered briefly if this was what it was like for Emma when she walked in on her and David in bed together. 

If David noticed her sudden horror he chose not to comment on it, his eyebrows knit together in confusion over another topic. “If Regina and Emma are both here tonight, then whose watching Henry and Roland?” 

His question pulled Mary Margaret from her horrified musings. “What? Oh, I know Robin sometimes asks Will Scarlet to watch Roland, so maybe he got him to watch Henry too?”

“I guess,” David replied, obviously not thrilled with the idea of someone he had personally thrown in a jail cell being in a position of authority over his grandson. 

A silence fell over their table that seemed deafening even amid the clatter and noise of the nearby couples, all people they were well acquainted with, and it occurred to Mary Margaret that being in a room with all of them wasn’t quite the date night she had envisioned for the evening. “This isn’t one of our better date nights, is it?”

“Not really,” David admitted. 

Mary Margaret sighed. “I understand what you were trying to say before about not really being alone here and it feeling weird. I love our friends and family, I really do, but on date nights I just want it to be about us, and not have to worry about accidentally listening in on people. Is that wrong?”

David smiled softly at her, reaching his hand across the table to trace his thumb over the back of her hand. “Wanna get out of here? It’s not like the waiter’s taken our order yet, even if he does talk a mile a minute.”

“I’m kind of hungry though. Do you still have that bag of trail mix in the truck?” She asked.

“Enough for a feast,” He answered. “What are you thinking?”

“That we take our date night somewhere more private. It’s a clear night and the stars are out. Why don’t we just park somewhere quiet and watch them?”

David’s smile was almost as bright as his eyes at her suggestion, and he stood up quickly, walking around the table to offer her a hand up. “Just you and me under the stars? Sounds like a perfect date night to me.” 

Mary Margaret smiled at that, happy not for the first time that they shared a heart and an idea of what constituted romance for them. She took David’s hand and stood, wrapping her fingers around his as they walked out of the restaurant. “Yeah, sounds like a date.”


	8. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shortest of drabblets does not make up for the longest of delays in updating this collection and I do apologize for that. Enjoy the speculative ramblings of the Charmings.

“I just had a thought,” Mary Margaret chimed, her words bouncing in time with her steps as she and David walked home from the supermarket one afternoon, with grocery bags in their arms and their hands intertwined thoughtlessly between them.

“Am I going to like this thought?” David asked, just a little nervous at the suddenness of his wife’s question. Neal was on a play date with Ashley’s daughter and Aurora’s son and they wanted to drop their groceries off at the loft before going to pick him up. Unfortunately, whenever his wife had a ‘thought’ it usually meant a detour of some kind was on the agenda, and David wasn’t entirely sure how long their young son would stay awake and un-grumpy while they took him on said detour. 

“Do you think Regina and Robin will stick with R’s?” She asked. Her head tilted to the side in the way that showed she had probably put more thought into the query than was strictly necessary. 

David was a little relieved that it was just a question and not an additional stop for them to make, but he was still confused at her train of thought. “I don’t follow?”

Mary Margaret readjusted the groceries hanging from her fingertips. “Well, their names both start with R, and so does Roland’s. I was just wondering if when Zelena’s baby is born they’d stick with the same theme.”

“Huh, I dunno. Maybe? What would they name the kid, then?”

Mary Margaret hummed in thought. “Reginald?”

David’s face scrunched up at that. “Isn’t that kind of close to Regina’s name? And do they even know what the gender is?”

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement. “True, Reginald is pretty similar. I don’t think they know the gender either. What about Riley? That’s a unisex name, right?”

“Yeah, that could work. Or Ryan,” He suggested.

Narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow greeted David as they walked along the main street, townsfolk waving amicably at them in passing. “Ryan? That’s a unisex name here?” 

David shrugged. “Well, I think so. One of the girl’s in Henry’s class was named Ryan.”

“Huh.” 

“Or they could go with something from people they know?” He tried. 

Mary Margaret’s eyes started scanning the street and fell on Granny’s diner. “From someone they know… Like Ruby? Somehow I don’t think they’ll name this kid after Ruby… Or Rumplestiltskin,” She added in afterthought. 

David sighed. “Probably not Rapunzel either. I don’t think Regina or Robin ever met her.”

“What about Ruth?” Mary Margaret quietly suggested. 

David turned to her in only slight surprise, a sad smile breaking out on his face. Mary Margaret squeezed his hand in reassurance. “We both know it wouldn’t mean as much to them as to us,” He told her. 

“I know,” She admitted. “I still think it’s a lovely name from a wonderful woman.”

He squeezed her hand back in affirmation, and shook thoughts of his beloved mother aside as best he could. “Maybe instead of familiar names from our realm, they’ll go with something like Ross or Rachel from this one?”

His wife chuckled at that, catching his reference easily. “I see someone’s been watching reruns of ‘Friends’…”

David gestured helplessly with one hand full of groceries. “It’s funny and it’s easy to follow and it’s what’s usually on when Neal finally falls asleep for his afternoon nap. It’s not like I’ve been watching ‘Sesame Street’ on my own without realizing Neal’s already asleep.”

Mary Margaret looked a little put out at that. “That was once! Maybe twice.”

“You were singing along with Elmo,” David pointed out. 

“Well the song was really catchy! And don’t think Emma and I haven’t noticed you humming some of those songs at the station. ‘Cause we noticed.” She shot him an accusing half glare that he only half recoiled from. Both of them smiled moments later, falling into companionable silence for several minutes. 

“You know what?” David started, breaking the silence. “It doesn’t even matter what names we come up. It’s their baby, they’ll name the kid whatever they want and I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Mary Margaret nodded at that. “Hmm, you’re right. Even if we suggested something to them they’d probably never use it. Remember how we came up with Emma’s name?”

David snorted at the memory. “Yeah. Everyone kept telling us what names would bring the most luck or which names were the most important in the royal lineage. But we didn’t listen to them.”

She shook her head, smiling in remembrance. “Nope, we chose a name for our daughter ourselves. Something unique but timeless.”

“Unique for our world anyway,” David muttered.

“What do you mean?”

David struggled for the best way to phrase the obscure factoid he’d learned from one of the behind-the-scenes moments of a ‘Friends’ TV marathon. “I guess there was a name boom or something after Rachel had her daughter on ‘Friends’? She named the girl Emma in the episode and almost immediately after that the name Emma jumped up in popularity.”

“Well it’s a good thing we got on that train before anyone else then,” Mary Margaret asserted. “And we didn’t even need a TV show to tell us what a wonderful name it is.” 

“And it’s turned out to be a beautiful name for our beautiful daughter,” David added. “And besides, Zelena’s kid is in great hands no matter what its name ends up being. What was that quote from the Shakespeare play Henry had to read for school? ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ or something like that?”

Mary Margaret’s eyes widened in delight and surprise, and she stopped short, pulling David to a stop with her. “Oh! That’s a good one too!”

“A good what? Quote? Play?”

“A good ‘R’ name, Rose!”

David smiled at that. “Or Rosalind?” He suggested. The two of them picked up their walk home again, the passing scenery of Storybrooke a sidenote to their conversation now. 

“Or Rosemary?” She countered, a mischievous gleam sparkling in her eyes. 

“Or Ra- No, no. We can’t.” David pulled them both to a stop again. “We just said we wouldn’t pick a name for this kid for Regina and Robin. It’s not fair to take that choice away from them. I think for now we might as well just call this future baby R. Mills-Locksley, or um, R. Locksley-Mills. Do you think that’s fair? ‘Cause I think you’re right, they’ll probably stick with an ‘R’ theme so that’s gotta be a safe bet.”

Mary Margaret sighed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s probably a safe bet for a first initial.”

They fell back into silence. Mary Margaret’s thumb rubbed nonsensical circles around the back of David’s hand and he let his thoughts wander. As they approached the loft, an idea came to him. “You know, I just had a thought,” David said, repeating Mary Margaret’s earlier words.

“Am I going to like this thought?” Mary Margaret asked, jokingly. Her thumb swiped one more circle around David’s skin. 

“Probably,” He told her, smiling a little. “Maybe after we pick up Neal we could stop by and see Regina and Robin. Just to, you know, see how they’re doing with baby prepping and all that.”

Mary Margaret caught on quick, as always. “And if the subject of names just so happens to come up we’ll have a few suggestions.”

“And that’s all they are,” David rushed to say. “Just some suggestions.”

“We wouldn’t want them to think we were imposing or anything.”

“Exactly. And what’s a few suggestions between friends?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, that’s what.”

Plans made, the pair made their way up the stairs of the building. David had been right before, there was always a detour involved whenever his wife ‘just had a thought’. Unfortunately for both of them, he could usually be convinced to join her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be doing everything EXCEPT finish the next chapter of Tattoo and I apologize again! Meanwhile, if you enjoyed this ficlet, let me know in the comments!


	9. Registry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quickie inspired by a friend’s recent engagement (Congrats again!) and subsequent registry (Is it normal to put a full registry up within 48 hours of the engagement? And with such an eclectic array of items?).
> 
> Modern Snowing AU. Mary Margaret is a little confused at some of the contents Regina and Robin’s wedding registry, but luckily she has David to help her sort through the truly crazy parts. (A/N: In case it isn’t clear, in this ficlet Henry doesn’t live with Regina, he lives with Emma. Just a side note for clarity’s sake. It’s not essential to the plot at all.)

The online wedding registry was supposed to be telling Mary Margaret something useful about what to by her friend, but after scanning the list all she could really come back to was the eclectic nature of some of the items being requested and how they just didn’t seem to match her friend at all. One item in particular stood out to her. “They want a roomba?” 

Her husband, David, heard her from the kitchen where he was finishing drying their dinner plates. “It’s a cordless vacuum robot. They’re really cool! You remember that video I showed you with the cat riding the circle robot on the carpet? It was riding a roomba,” He called out to where she sat in the living room. 

Mary Margaret turned to him with a soft smile. “David, I love you, but your obsession with cat videos lately is a little disconcerting, almost as much as your love of random bits of useless tech.”

“Says the woman who introduced me to screaming goat videos, and roomba’s aren’t useless,” He snorted in reply, sticking his head through the doorway into the room. “But you remember the roomba, right?”

She sighed. “Yes, I remember. But why do Regina and Robin even need one? I thought they had a vacuum cleaner already?”

David shrugged and walked into the living room to stand behind the couch where she sat. He leaned over her shoulder to take in the list on the screen, eyes scanning over the items quickly. “Maybe Regina figures this is a good time to stock up on stuff? Might as well take advantage of all the good will, right? It looks like there’s a lot of cookware in here too that I know for a fact they already have. Plus, there’s a lot of stuff here that looks like it would probably be for Roland anyway.”

“True, the dresser they listed looks way too small to fit Regina’s or Robin’s wardrobes and there’s a set of twin sized sheets.” Mary Margaret scrolled down the page, only half paying attention to the list at that point, when something caught her eye. “Wait a minute… Is that what I think it is?”

“An extra set of wine glasses?”

She shook her head, pointing to the screen to clarify. “No, below that.”

“A PlayStation? That’s kind of out of place. I don’t think Robin plays video games… ” David started to say. 

“Regina doesn’t either.” Mary Margaret interrupted. 

David continued. “And I definitely remember Robin saying Roland was too young for video games anyway. I know Henry has that Xbox Emma got him that Roland keeps borrowing but I don’t…” David’s forehead scrunched in thought. “Hey, do you think it was-”

“It was Roland’s idea,” She answered, absolutely certain and nodding sagely at her conclusion. 

“Yep. Definitely him. He must’ve gotten a hold of the registry somehow. Now here’s a question. Do we tell them right away?” He asked, a little mischief in his eye as he leaned forward. 

Mary Margaret let a smirk grow on her face. “Tell them that Roland started treating the registry like Christmas come early? Honestly, part of me doesn’t want to just so we can see how much stuff gets through. Is that really wrong of me?”

“A little, but I’m right there with you,” David admitted, before shrugging in defeat. “And yet…”

“And yet Regina and Robin won’t be happy if they get a PlayStation for a wedding gift, I know,” She agreed. 

David leaned forward more and started rubbing his hands into her shoulders; lightly massaging away any tension that might have found it’s way there. Mary Margaret sighed contentedly at the contact. 

“It’s too late to call tonight, so why don’t we do this? We’ll order them the roomba online tonight, and tomorrow we can call Regina and ask about the PlayStation?” He suggested.

Mary Margaret hummed in reply. “Sure, might as well order their gift now while all the affordable gifts are still available. Want to find us something on Netflix?”

The rest of the evening passed quickly with both of them cuddled on the couch under a blanket watching several episodes of Fargo before bed. 

(“Those Midwestern accents are so nice and unassuming. How could all those people with that accent be killers?”) 

(“Mary Margaret, I worry about your optimism sometimes.”)

The next morning rushed by in a blur as both David and Mary Margaret slept through the alarm and they were forced to forgo breakfast in favor of a pair of coffees in order to make it to their respective jobs on time. Mary Margaret barely made it to her classroom before the bell sounded for the first period. Her students were already seated as she raced into the room, out of breath and slightly frazzled, and tripped over her feet. She nearly fell to the floor but managed to flail her arms out enough for balance, righting herself to the sound of chuckling students. 

“And that’s why you never run in the halls!” She declared, trying to save face in front of her amused students. “Now, open your textbooks to chapter five. Let’s get started.”

It wasn’t until her break period three classes later that Mary Margaret remembered wanting to call Regina. She debated waiting until she got home to do it with David, but instead decided to just deal with it then. She stepped into the empty teacher’s lounge and pulled out her phone, her fingers flitting over the screen to reach the appropriate contact.

“Mary Margaret? To what do I owe this workday call?” Asked a woman’s crisp and professional voice. 

Mary Margaret grimaced, only just remembering that Regina’s workday rarely allowed for much time for personal calls. She would have to be quick. “Regina, hi. Sorry about calling you at work like this. I just had a quick question about your registry. I saw there was a PlayStation on there?”

Regina’s response was surprisingly chipper despite the interruption to her day. “Oh yes! That’s actually for Roland.”

“Wait, what?”

She heard her friend sigh on the other end of the phone. “Robin and I were talking and we decided that by the time the wedding came around Roland would be old enough for a game system like that. We’ve seen how much he likes Henry’s Xbox when he goes to Emma’s. It was going to be a gift for him as a thank you for putting up with a whole year of wedding insanity.”

Mary Margaret’s confusion only grew. “So that’s actually on your registry? I mean, it’s a gift from you and Robin, wouldn’t you-”

“This wedding is about Roland too,” Regina elaborated. “It’s about all three of us becoming a family. There’s no reason he should be excluded from the registry. You must have seen the dresser and bedding we put on the registry for him? Besides, I think Will Scarlet already claimed the PlayStation. Something about wanting to be the ‘favorite uncle’ I think?” 

“What about the roomba? That’s on the registry too?”

There was a pause that made Mary Margaret think Regina had hung up on her already, but she answered eventually with a confused and worried, “What’s a roomba?”

Mary Margaret’s brow scrunched. “It’s a wireless robot. It basically moves around on its own and vacuums your floor for you?”

Another pause, this one loaded even in its silence and Mary Margaret suddenly worried at its implications. “I never put such a thing on the registry,” Regina answered coolly.

“But the PlayStation was really there?”

“Yes.”

“But not the self-vacuuming robot?” 

Regina scoffed. “Hardly. We already have a perfectly good vacuum cleaner. Asking for extra plates and cutlery is one thing, but why bother with another vacuum?”

Mary Margaret’s thoughts raced as she replayed her and David’s conversation from the night before. “But then how did it get on the list? David and I thought Roland had put the PlayStation on there as a wishful joke or something but do you think-?”

Regina interrupted her quickly. “Unless Robin put the roomba on there without my knowledge, I think I need to have a little chat with my future stepson about what should and shouldn’t go on the registry, assuming he’s even aware of what he was doing…” She didn’t sound as angry as she could have, which Mary Margaret took as a good sign. In the tenuous early years of their friendship she had known Regina to lash out dramatically at lesser slights, but nowadays she was calmer, more willing to listen and forgive. Mary Margaret smiled. Time really did change things. 

It was several moments before Mary Margaret realized she had another question to ask in light of recent revelations. “So if someone happened to have already gotten you a roomba…”

A chuckle sounded over the line. “Go ahead and keep it, Mary Margaret. I’ll be sure to check on the registry to see what else was unwittingly added.” 

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Mary Margaret glanced at the clock and smiled when she realized there was still a little time before her next class started. Enough time to give her husband a quick call to let him know what had happened and that they were essentially giving themselves an early Christmas gift. Her fingers flew over the necessary numbers, the sequence well engrained in her memory by then.

She was met with his voicemail, and plowed ahead with her message. “Hey David, about that roomba and the PlayStation, I talked to Regina today and you’ll never guess what actually happened…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, review, and leave a prompt!


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